Location will be a crucial factor for Linea's success. The restaurant will thrive if it is centrally located in the right neighborhood, with good visibility on a busy street with plenty of foot traffic.
Two main factors determine rent for a restaurant: location and square footage. I am more than willing to compromise on square footage by using every inch of storage space possible, floor to ceiling. It's always wise for a new business to keep physical inventory to a minimum and keep the assets liquid, so I will not order goods in bulk. During my time in the shoebox kitchen of The Haven, I learned how to utilize very limited storage space by keeping it organized and uncluttered.
A line out the door is excellent free advertisement, and the better the location is, the longer the line will be. And for that reason, location is not something I can afford to compromise.
My weighted factors when looking for a space for Linea will be:
Location 40%
Rent/Lease 15%
Buildout Cost 10%
Parking 10%
Square Footage/Layout 10%
Landlords 10%
Existing Equipment 5%
(If I am forgetting something, or if you think something should be weighted differently for Linea's concept, please comment and let me know).
If any of you readers happen to see a vacant restaurant space in a good location, or hear of a spot for sale, please let me know! Especially in JP or Somerville.
-Chef Wax
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Inspiration Meal: Rod Dee Thai
It's 5pm, I'm a bad mood. I've been walking around the neighborhood for two hours in the snow, searching for a gift for my Lily. I haven't eaten yet all day, so I feel slightly lightheaded with a dull headache. I'm cold, alone, tired, and starving. Thankfully, I arrive at a my favorite hole-in-the-wall Thai joint.
I open the door, and a waft of curry hits my nostrils and awakens me. I stomp the snow off my boots and walk into the tiny store. All the busy eaters stop eating and glance my way. The cold air is sucking the warmth from the tiny space, I realize this a bit late and close the door quickly. Just six tables, none open. The warmth and aromas coming from the kitchen once again fill the room as I stand patiently in line.
As I wait, I peer into the open kitchen. I take comfort that the cooks are older Thai ladies, but don't know why I care. I suppose my soul needs more than nourishment today - I could use a well-cooked meal that a mother would make for her kids. Something simple, tasty, no fuss.
Finally, it's my turn to order. "Large roast duck with yellow curry, brown rice." $9.50, and just as I pay, a table gets up to leave. It's right next to where the door opens, but I don't care. My legs are aching. I take my jacket off and sit. The door opens, another customer. A gust of cold winter air hits my face. I put my jacket back on, squeeze the drawstring on my hood, and snuggle into my seat.
The food is ready in just a few minutes. The cashier brings it out to me and doesn't say a word. A giant plate, with lots of roast duck and a colorful array of vegetables - green peppers, orange carrots, yellow pineapple, white onions, red chilis. At first glance, I think to myself there is no way I will be able to finish it. Then I remember how hungry I am, and dig in.
The spice from the curry warms me up, the sweet from the pineapple gives me a zing. I savor every piece of fatty duck, the vegetables make me feel good about myself. Gradually, my mood changes. Cold becomes warm, hunger is satiated. My feet ache less, a dull headache fades. I glance around the tables, see others enjoying their meals. I eat alone, but I don't feel lonely. Suddenly I realize the plate is done, licked clean.
I exit just 20 minutes after I had arrived, satiated, happy. The cold air feels pleasant now. I double back to the jewelery store I visited earlier and splurge on some nice earrings for my Lily. She loves them.
This meal felt better than any other meal in recent memory. It was simple, affordable, nourishing, and delicious. Exactly what I hope to provide myself someday at a place of my own.
http://www.roddee.net/
I open the door, and a waft of curry hits my nostrils and awakens me. I stomp the snow off my boots and walk into the tiny store. All the busy eaters stop eating and glance my way. The cold air is sucking the warmth from the tiny space, I realize this a bit late and close the door quickly. Just six tables, none open. The warmth and aromas coming from the kitchen once again fill the room as I stand patiently in line.
As I wait, I peer into the open kitchen. I take comfort that the cooks are older Thai ladies, but don't know why I care. I suppose my soul needs more than nourishment today - I could use a well-cooked meal that a mother would make for her kids. Something simple, tasty, no fuss.
Finally, it's my turn to order. "Large roast duck with yellow curry, brown rice." $9.50, and just as I pay, a table gets up to leave. It's right next to where the door opens, but I don't care. My legs are aching. I take my jacket off and sit. The door opens, another customer. A gust of cold winter air hits my face. I put my jacket back on, squeeze the drawstring on my hood, and snuggle into my seat.
The food is ready in just a few minutes. The cashier brings it out to me and doesn't say a word. A giant plate, with lots of roast duck and a colorful array of vegetables - green peppers, orange carrots, yellow pineapple, white onions, red chilis. At first glance, I think to myself there is no way I will be able to finish it. Then I remember how hungry I am, and dig in.
The spice from the curry warms me up, the sweet from the pineapple gives me a zing. I savor every piece of fatty duck, the vegetables make me feel good about myself. Gradually, my mood changes. Cold becomes warm, hunger is satiated. My feet ache less, a dull headache fades. I glance around the tables, see others enjoying their meals. I eat alone, but I don't feel lonely. Suddenly I realize the plate is done, licked clean.
I exit just 20 minutes after I had arrived, satiated, happy. The cold air feels pleasant now. I double back to the jewelery store I visited earlier and splurge on some nice earrings for my Lily. She loves them.
This meal felt better than any other meal in recent memory. It was simple, affordable, nourishing, and delicious. Exactly what I hope to provide myself someday at a place of my own.
http://www.roddee.net/
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